


Prophecies - a fix-it-fic

by castanea (idk_justimaginesomethingcreative)



Category: The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Fix-It, M/M, and then i make them have braincells, btw its basically the book up to chapter thirty, except the made me sad, i have no justification for this, so yay! no major character death whoop whoop
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:14:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29860713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idk_justimaginesomethingcreative/pseuds/castanea
Summary: Maybe there were some bad decisions made in the tents before Troy. But they dont have to stay that way. Prophecies don't always have to come true. Despite what the Gods try to make you think, sometimes human perseverance and love can be stronger than expected.Honestly, this is just a fix-it-fic where i make Achilles and Patroclus have more than one shared Braincell.You get to experience the build up that the actual book offers you, and then i take away the last few chapters because they're sad and and make them happy because i was given a mediocre creative writing ability and no impuse control.
Relationships: Achilles/Patroclus (Song of Achilles)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	Prophecies - a fix-it-fic

[Sadly, I am very lazy, and I am not rewriting the entire book just to change the ending. Therefore, this fic starts within chapter 30 of the original book. Since you are here, looking for fan fiction for this story, i don't think I have to explain the plot up to this point, but just to get back in the flow I'll shortly summarize the last few pages:

Achilles is still refusing to fight, and the greeks are losing, badly. The other Princes get more and more pissed about that, and their camp is getting run over by Trojans. Ajax just got speared in the leg, which means they have now lost their second-best fighter. They beg Patroclus to convince Achilles to fight, he refuses, Patroclus has the glorious idea of asking him to put on his armour and play pretend to motivate the masses and save Achilles' honour. Achilles agrees. The next Paragraph starts with Achilles putting the armour on Patroclus and this is where this fic starts.]

There was a loaded silence between us as Achilles chained his armour on me. As I watched him carefully tighten the leather straps around my tights, he stopped to look up at me.

"Are you certain you want to do this?" Achilles whispered, as if scared to break the quiet air around us. "We have no choice".

There was a slight tint of desperation in my otherwise toneless voice. With his eyes avoiding mine, he continued to buckle up the armour on my legs. He was aware of the absurdity, the danger of our plan, but he didn't want to admit it. His Pride was keeping him bound to the stoic promise he had made. As much as i hoped, prayed, mentally begged the Gods to make him see reason, no such thing seemed possible. 

Achilles had gotten up to tie the strings of my chest armour on my back, and in a last effort i turned around, interupting his work, the strings falling loosely out of his hands. I grabbed them, interlaced my fingers with his and waited until his gaze finally met mine.

"Achilles."

"Patroclus.".

The way he said my name, pronounced the syllables as if they were made to be spoken by him, reminded me of the first time we had met. A scared, haunted and disgraced prince, and a gracefull one, with such heavy destiny he pretended didn't matter, just two little boys who didn't understand the world around them. Our history flashed between us, one of longing and persistance and love, ignoring the pain and hurt of the war around us for just one short moment of sweet nostalgia. Our eyes and hands stayed interlocked while those memories swam around us like thousands of flashing, multicoloured fish in a vast, dark ocean. Achilles softly loosened one of his hand to reach up, cup my face and softly move his thumb across my tired face. 

"You know i can't" he said quietly, already guessing the words about to fall out of my mouth. He softly turned me around and continued lacing the last strings in my back. As he finished, only the helmet missing now, he stroked a stray piece of hair out of my face, before placing his lips on mine for a last time and setting the golden helmet onto my head.

Outside, Automedon was already waiting with the Chariot. He held out a hand and helped me up. "We must hurry.", he said. "The Trojans are getting closer fast." I just nodded, feeling like words would get stuck in my throat if i tried to say them. I looked back down at Achilles, still standing quitly next to the Chariot. Our gazes met, and i again had to painfully notice how hard his eyes had become over the past years. The youthfull glimmer had perished from them, and i could not even recognize the need for the thrill of the fight anymore, which had gotten more predominant over the war.

I didn't manage to force out any words to him, but the look we shared had already said more that we would have had the time to pronounce. Automedon however, had not bitten his tongue. Shortly before the chariot began to move, he opened his mouth and even i did not expect the words that came out of it.

"Is this really what your honour is worth, my Prince?" Both me and Achilles where too surprised by this vocal objection of a servant to his master to say anything.

The horses began their trot to the battlefield, and i forced to shift my thoughts back to the oncoming fight i was supposed to lead. As our soldiers saw me coming towards them, they loudly rejoiced and started to accumulate behind us, picking up their sword and shield, ready to follow their _Aristos Achaion_ into Battle.

For a short moment i wondered if Achilles had felt the same nervousness that i was feeling right now as he led a battle for the first time. Immideatly i scoffed at this thought. Achilles was, figuratively and literally, born for this. I was not. 

As we got closer to the frontlines, this became increasingly clear. I nearly fell off the chariot multiple times as it moved over the uneven grounds of the battlefield, each time barely finding my footing before we hit the next stone on the ground. The spear in my hand seemed impossibly heavy, even though i was not even supposed to use it for its intended purpose. 

With my Chariot at the front and the screaming men behind us, we approached the enemy line. The horses stopped, and there was a moment of eerie silence, before i slowly raised my spear into the air, both the Trojans and the Greeks masses watching closely. The air was filled with thick anticipation. I pushed the spear forward, and the trumpets declared the battle for open.

I stood still, surrounded by the two waves of men crashing into each other. I watched as they fought, and bled, and finally, fell. The rushing in my ears got suddenly interupted, as Automedon yelled at me. I blinked away from the Atrocities happening before my eyes and concentrated back on paying my role.

Our carriage rushed through the lines of soldiers, and everywhere we went, the shining gold of my armour seemed to give them inspiration, and the went back int to the fight, harder and with more energy then they had had in weeks. Their strongest man had returned, had finally decided that his men were more important than his honour, ready to fight with them again. I felt ashamed at the false hope i was giving them, but it was all that i could give. And i prayed that it would be enough to at least give us one small victory, enough to have just a single soldier have the energy and motivtion for fighting just a bit longer. 

But with the hope, my armour also brought attention. Automedon did his best to avoid the weaponry being flung at us, but a few arrows had still made their way into the wood of the chariot. It was only a matter of time until something greater hit us, and that moment was to come sooner than i would have hoped for.

A spear, thrown from within the mass of soldier bodies, struck us between the spokes of one of the wheels, and the wagon came to an aprupt halt, flinging us both from it into the blood-stained earth below. Before i even had the chance to properly get up from the dirt, i see an enemy Chariot coming at me. It takes me a second to make out the face behind the long, flying hair and shining armour, and when i finally do, the spear find its way back into my hand almost by itsself. I might not be Achilles, and i might not like it, but if it comes down to it, i do know how to fight. Sarpedon comes closer and closer. I take my position, one foot before the other, one arm stretched out to aim, the muscles in my back flexing.

And then the spear flies, and, miraculously, finds its target in his chest. It does not penetrate his armour, but it does push him a step backwards. His chariot loses its balance, and he falls, unmoving onto the ground.

I hold my breath, scared he will get up again, but he doesn't. I know what i have to do now, to keep up the fassade. I'm not him, but i have to do what he would. The sword on my side feels heavy as i pull it out of the sheath. The surrounding soldiers watch me make my way over to the fallen general. The sword breaks his armour, and the red blood gushes out of the hole as i pull it out. I do not take the time to close his eyes, as i wanted to. I just turn around and make my way away from him, as the warriors begin to continue their fight.

Automedon looks reliefed as i find him back at our chariot. He has removed the spear and hastily tied together the broken spoke. As we get back on it and continue our journey through this battlefield, i feel the adrenaline wear off. I allow myself to breathe again. But the fight is not over yet.

The way the battle is going, the current of soldiers has pulled us closer to the city of Troy. The enemy lines are thin here, and it would be easy for me to just run through them and start climbing the city wall. To climb over it, and finally end this Bloodbath. To finally get my revenge for the things the city has taken from me, and the people I love. That the selfish action of one of its citizens caused this seemingly endless war. That it would be the downfall of the man i loved. The Instict to do so is strong, stronger than many emotions i have felt in the past years of living in this cold and bitter war zone.

I look up this wall of the city i dread so much, and it almost seems like a higher power is staring down at me from on top of it to do it, to climb the walls and seal my sure fate of death when I fall. And almost take the bait. But then i remember Achilles, and the way he looked at me before i left this morning, and the way he looked at me all those days before. I don't know how little time he has left, and i don't want to fall victim to a stupid action filled with anger and spite before we can cherish every last one of those remaining moments. 

So i don't. I stay still and let the wagon pull me away, away from Troy and back towards the person I love most.

I get suddenly pulled out of my thoughts as i get thrown out of the Chariot once again. This time, i have time to get up properly before realizing that our situation might be worse that last time. One of our horses has been shot with an arrow, bleeding profusely out of a gaping wound in its stomach. It has fallen over, pulling the second horse down with it, but before i can make an effort to think about this, i notice two other important details. Firstly, i had lost my helmet when i was flung through the air.

My brown hair now flew in the soft wind that smelled of blood and death, and was noticably not the golden locks of Achilles.

But in worse news, I had spotted the person who had presumably shot down our horse. It was Hector, now running toward me with his sword triumphantly held up high into the air. 

Without having time to think of a reaction, Hector had reached me and kicked me down into the dirt, his sharp end of his sword pressing against my neck, drawing a slight drop of blood.

I tried reaching for my sword next to me on the ground, but it was too far away and i could not get a grip on it. Hector chuckled above me. "Did the _Aristos Achaion_ really grow bored enough of our battle to send someone in his stead?" His eyes grew mercilessly cold within seconds, and he kicked me in the chest hard, leaving me fighting for air in pain."If you're precious enough to him that he trusts you to take his place in battle, i'll make sure to enjoy this", he snarled at me before hitting me in the face with the flat side of his sword, leaving me screaming out loud with blood running down the cut on my face.

The battle around us had died down, soldiers from both sides had stopped their fighting to quietly watch us. It seemed like time had stopped around us. It felt like the wind had died down, and the only sounds i could hear were the faint screams of the ongoing fight around us. The clashing of swords, the buzzing of arrows and the yelling seemed impossibly distant.

And in that second, something clicked in my brain. "Hector has not taken anything from me" he had always said.

Not yet.

Another kick into the stomack made me curl up and spit up blood to the side. The vision behind my eyes started to blurr.

But he was about to. This was what the prophecy had implied. If I died at Hectors hands, Achilles would not stop at his own demise to avenge me. I knew this, and apperantly so did the Gods.

In a last rush of energy i managed to finally grab my sword. But i was already too weak to fight him back, i would have no chance at winning.

Maybe i could bring the sword up and just end it myself, use the little bit of strength i still had to end it myself.

I would not give him the satisfaction of killing me, and he wouldn't have taken anything from Achilles. he could live, even if i had to die for it. This is War. It had always been a possibillity that i die before him, though we never talked about it in our silent talks in the tent during all those years. We both knew he would always be there to protect me.

Another kick. Hector laughed. He was enjoying this.

But he wasn't. Achilles wasn't here to protect me, to make impulsive and proud decisions for me. It was on me.

My grip on the sword tightend.

I slowly brought it up from below me as Hector had gotten up to turn around and adress the greek soldiers watching us.

"This is what you call you 'greatest of greek'? One that doesn't even want to fight for you? He just sent one of his servants in his stead!". His words echoed through the silently watching rows of fighters.

The shaft of the sword was heavy in my hand as i rose it up, ready to make this my final decision.

But suddenly, I heard a shout from the silent, and stopped. The warriors began to whisper among themselves, turning around to try and see who the screams where coming from. Before Hector had a chance to react, a spear had hit im in the thigh, nestled securely between the plates of his armour. He fell to his knees with deep scream, as i saw the first glimpses of golden hair show up between heads of the surprised soldiers.

My hand was still clutching the sword as Achilles broke through the lines of men. 

He was not wearing any armour, just a simple tunic, sprinkled with dirt and blood. It seemed like he had run the entire way here, there was no horse in sight that could have carried him here. He only carried an ordinary sword as his weapon, probably picked up from one of the fallen soldiers on the way. But he didn't need any of those things. He didn't have a scratch on him, and the fire behind his eyes told everyone who looked at him that he still had more to give. 

He came to a halt shortly before Hector, kicked his sword out of his hand and then rushed over to my weakend body on the ground.

"You came..." I whispered quietly as he dropped down next to me and pressed my weak head against his chest. "I'm so sorry" He smelled of blood and I smeared more of it onto his tunic, but neither of us cared about that. We also didn't care about the soldiers in the back, watching us and whispering among themselves.

Achilles carefully pushed me away and held my face between his hands. "Are you okay?" he whispered. "I will be, now." I smiled. So did he, and shortly touched his lips to my forehead.

Then, he got up and turned around to face the soldiers.

"I must apologize to you. I let my hubris overtake me, and i should not have put my selfish behaviour over the fight we compete in together. I must serve you just as much as you serve me. I will not let my pride be the cause for the downfall of the people i care about, and the people that are under my command. Not anymore."

Whispers went through the listeners. Such open admission of weakness and fault from a prince was rare, if not thought impossible. But he just stood there, his face an open book of honest regrett, and the acceptance of having to live with the consequences.

Achilles turned back to Hector, still on the ground. He kneeled down in front of him and smiled. "You know, theres this prophecy. Mostly about me, and a little bit about you.". Hector looked at him with a face mixing confusion, pain and disgust, "The Prophecy says that i will die after you do. So i never harmed you, knowing i was the only one skilled enough to do so, therefore i must be save as long as i won't. I always thought i didn't hve a reason to, since you hadn't taken anything from me."

Achilles eyes swept over from pitifully looking down at Hector to warmly meet my gaze. "And today, laying alone in my tent, i realized the only thing that you could take from me to make me act in such ways to break my own promise" He laughed. It was a full, honest laugh, and i felt a bit of life return into my beaten body. "So i guess i should thank you. For making me realize what matters." 

And with those words he raised his sword and slashed it across Hectors face. He fell to the earth with a cry that felt like it could awake the dead, blood and liquid running down his face from his slashed eyeballs.

"I have not taken his life, but his sight. He will not be able to fight again, even if he does survive." he proclaimed. "And if he does die, the hero Achilles dies with him. But I am not him anymore. I do not care."

And with those words he layed down his sword, bowed to the speechlessly watching soldiers, picked my body of the ground and carried me, with no visible difficulty, out of their staring gazes.

###

Somewhere along the way I had apperantly passed out, because I awoke in the white tent the next morning. The familiar smell of herbs and blood wavered through the air, the chaos of hurt and helpers running around felt almost comforting. I carefully sat up and noticed Achilles, asleep on the floor next to me, though me moving seemes to have woken him up, as he immediately sat up and looked at me with more worry and regrett than i had seen in him in ages. We just looked at each other for a while. My eyes were telling him how proud i was of him. But i wasn't sure if it showed, so i told him.

"I'm proud of you".

He laughed lightly and then pulled me into a hug, that he only reluctantly let go of as a young woman shyly asked to redress my wounds.

###

A few days later we were back in the tent. My wounds were healing nicely, and I had been allowed to return to Achilles. My head was laying in his lap, and his fingers were carefully playing with my hair.

The Battle that i was wounded in had apparantly also badly wounded Agamemnon, and it was uncertain wether he would awake again. As soon as i had heard of those news, a plan had begun to develop in my head, and after talking to Achilles, the thought had also crossed his mind. 

With Hector too wounded to return to the fight, we were sure the greeks would be able to continue their fight without the two of us. Achilles had openly sworn off his duties as the prophecied hero, and if the past weeks proved anything, it was that he was stoic enough to keep such a promise.

There was sudden rustling of cloth at the entrance of our tent, and we watched as Odysseus poked his head through the heavy curtains. I didn't move my head from is lap, and he didn't move his fingers from my hair. Everybody had always kind of known about us, and since the battle we had given up on trying to hide it. No one really cared anyways. We gestured Odysseus to come and sit with us, which he swiftly did. As he made himself comfortable on the Pillows on the floor, he looked at us with an emotion i could not quite identify. He mostly seemed tired.

"So. I hear you're planning an escape?" he finally said. We both looked at him surprised, but not too surprised, as we had learned over the years than Odysseus was almost always one step ahead. We both stayed quiet, trying to subvert his knowing eyes. "I won't try to stop you" he finally laughed into the silence. This did surprise me a little bit.

"Really?", Achilles finally asked. Odysseus laughed again, and then nodded. 

"You've done a lot for us. Both of you, more than most others have. Of course i would prefer if you stayed, but I am wise enough to understand that i won't be able to convince you. However, i am curious." He shuffled around on the pillows. "What are you going to do? Where do you plan to go?"

Achilles and i looked at each other, and both shrugged. "I don't think we know exactly yet," i finally said. "but i think we've had enough adventure. We want to build something new, something stable.". Achilles nodded, smiling. "But first, i want to see my father. And then we'll see where the fates will bring us." 

Odysseus laughed. "I would have thought that you had enough of fates." Achilles just watched me quietly, lovingly.

"I don't care anymore."

###

And so, after a week, my wounds had healed to enough to act out our plan.

I was quietly walking through the dark, nightly tents. It didn't matter if people saw me, it didn't matter if they questioned my actions. Nothing mattered anymore, except getting out of here.

I approached a specific tent and entered it carefully. At first i thought it was empty, but then the person i was looking for approached me from the shadows of the tent. 

"Patroclus?". Her voice sounded so surprised and glad to see me. I smiled. "I'm sorry i left you waiting for so long", and with that Briseis fell around my arms and hugged me so tightly that i thought my wounds might open up again. "What happened? I've been so worried, no one has talked to me in about a week!" She whispered as we pulled apart. 

"I'll explain it to you on the way, but we're leaving. Now." 

"What?" She seemed exited but also scared at the same time. "What about Agamemnon?"

"It doesn't matter anymore. I'll explain on the way, but if you want to come with us, you have to come now." "Of course I'll come!" She was as eager to get out of here as Achilles and me were, and only grabbed a few clothes and valuables before looking at me expectively. 

We walked quickly back to the sea, where we met Achilles, who was getting a small sailboat ready to take us away.

As we came aboard, he turned around and smiled at us, and for the first time Briseis seemed to mean the one she gave back to him.

The boat set into motion as Achilles loosend the rope holding us to the shore, and the fortunate wind carried away from the carnage we were leaving.

Achilles let his hand sink into the water down the side, and it almost seemed like the small waves his fingers caused in the water were fingers themselves, holding his as we sailed towards a new life.

###########################################

Disclaimer: I just got possessed by the ghost of undiagnosed ADHD which forced me to write this entire thing in one sitting. I have also not done literally ANY creative writing in about four years so excuse me if I'm a bit rusty and this has grammatical errors and stuff.

But yeah, i really dont know why i just got so obsessed over writing a fif it fic for greek mythology. No fucking clue how that happened, seriously. 

Anyways i might write a second chapter where they just. have a nice life somewhere with some hijinks and fun times because they deserve it. (turning stuff that is meant to be serious into dramatic comedys is my favourite thing).

Idk yet please leave a comment to tell me if you like the way i write because i'm not gonna have the motivation to write another chapter if no one is going to read it (i think thats another ADHD thing tbh)


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